


Do You Wanna

by MyckiCade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A bit of sap, Double-Dean, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3072098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyckiCade/pseuds/MyckiCade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't like he had never seen Cas, before. He still had him in 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Wanna

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: This is... old. Like, beginning of 2013 old... But, I want to get as much up and posted as I can, so. :). Here it is! Enjoy! ~ <3 ~.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I am not that clever. This work is intended for fan enjoyment, only. No infringement is intended.

Dean sat at the small motel room table, listening to the rain patter against the window, eyes fixed on, well... himself... Well, his future self. Someone, somewhere, had apparently seen fit to pull the old switcharoo on poor, unsuspecting Future Dean, and had dropped him in 2010. What harm could that really cause, though? Sure, Sam had nearly had a heart attack when he answered the door, but it was totally worth it for the laugh that Dean had.

Both Deans. Huh. That was kind of odd to think about.

The three had spent a little while talking, when Future Dean had asked, “Uhm... Is Cas around?” He looked at his hands, somewhat uncomfortably, and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, sure, he's around...” Glancing to the ceiling, Dean called, “Cas! Come on down!”

It took a moment, but the soft flutter of the angel's wings soon brushed against their hearing. Dean grinned, watching as Castiel assessed the situation. “Dean...” He spotted the duplicate, and blinked. Future Dean took a sharp breath, and sat up a little bit straighter in his chair. “ _Other Dean..._ ”

Dean got Castiel up to speed without hesitation. Future Dean kept quiet in the background, but Dean couldn't help but to notice that his eyes never left Castiel, roaming over his face, his form, in something akin to wonder. What the hell was that about, he couldn't help but question? It wasn't like he had never seen Cas, before. He still had him in 2014, Dean had seen that much with his own two eyes. Why did he look like he had just lost his best friend, then seen his ghost in the mirror? Dean thought about that, and gulped. The odds of it being anything less than awful were not in his favour.

It wasn't until Sam had distracted Cas with some research that Dean was able to corner his future self on the issue. He'd eyed Future Dean for several moments, before asking in a hushed voice, “You gonna' make it, there?”

Future Dean finally turned his gaze away from Castiel. “Huh?” How eloquent. Dean damn-near rolled his eyes.

“You've been eyeballin' Cas since he got here,” Dean huffed. “I mean, he sticks around, am I right? It ain't like you haven't seen him since  _right now._ ” Future Dean's mouth opened and closed, apparently unable to form a retort. “So, what gives?”

For one short, horrifying second, Dean thought that his future self was about to have an emotional breakdown. From the way that his jaw was shaking, it seemed entirely possible. But, thankfully enough, he seemed to suck it up enough to draw his eyes back to the topic of discussion. “He's...” Future Dean breathed out, voice more hollow than the sudden emptiness that filled his gaze. “ _He was still mine, here_ ...”

Dean drew back, instantly disturbed by this news. “I'm sorry, he's  _what?_ ”

With a swallow, Future Dean looked down to the floor in front of him. “Cas... You haven't lost him, yet, you know...”

“Huh?” Dean shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about, I haven't  _lost him? You haven't_ lost him, either, y'know!” He eyed the other, already taking him for a loon. “He's still your best friend, isn't he? I mean, when you're not planning on offering him up like a sacrificial lamb?”

When Future Dean jerked his head up, eyes horrified at the very  _thought_ of giving up Castiel, Present Dean wanted to reach across the table and pop him in the face. “I'd never!”

“ _You would,_ ” Dean replied, darkly. “You'd give up your  _best friend_ just to-”

“ _Best friend?_ ” Oh, this wasn't good. “Hey, Pal, you've got something wrong, here.”

“Oh, I do? Enlighten me, then.”

Future Dean shifted in his chair, somewhat uncomfortably. “Look... What I mean is...” He paused, and sighed. “ _Cas... He loves you..._ ” Dean's eyes widened, and Future Dean smiled. “Yeah... Yeah, I know the feeling, but...  _Dude... Don't fuck it up..._ ”

Dean blinked, eyes suddenly feeling just a little bit dry. “How the hell? What're you  _talking about?_ ”

“You know  _damn-well_ what I'm talking about,” Future Dean hissed, casting him an evil glare. “That feeling you've got in your stomach, every time he smiles at you? That want to always put your arm around his shoulder? The fucking  _dreams, Man?_ ” It was Dean's turn to take in a quick breath of air, and Future Dean smirked, knowingly. “ _Can't lie to me._ I've already been here, you remember.” Dean couldn't argue that, much as he would have liked to. “Look, my point is...” He suddenly turned bright, all-too-pleading eyes on his past self. “ _Don't ignore it, Man_ ... Because, by the time you're ready to accept it, well... Well... You saw what becomes of him.”

Back across the table, Dean grimaced, his own, more innocent eyes slowly turning to Castiel. The angel was slowly pacing the length of the  _other end_ of the motel room, a book rested against his forearm, patiently flipping through pages. Dean smiled, small and sad, considering the words of his more experienced self.

_You saw what becomes of him._

“That's all because you  _ignored him?_ ”

Future Dean slowly shook his head. “ _No._ It's because I wasn't attentive enough to notice that I could have steered him a different way.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes across the table. “You're not afraid of it royally messing up your present?” But, really, how much more  _fucked up_ could the future really  _get_ for  _any one_ of them? Future Dean's sorrowful expression spoke volumes of the same idea.

“No,” he said, at long-last. “I'm hoping that, if you make your move in the now, then, maybe, when I get home, he'll still be mine.”

Dean swallowed, and looked from Castiel, to his future self's suddenly-forlorn countenance. He recognized that look, all too well. Misery, that was what it was. Misery and loathing and pain, and all at himself, and his own stupid decisions. He didn't want that. He was fucking tired of that.

Ignoring the startled look of Future Dean as he stood from his seat, Dean crossed the room, stopping just in front of the Research Department.

“Cas,” he began, voice low and rough. Castiel looked up, and Dean fought the urge to smile. “We need to talk.”

 


End file.
